Come Back to Me
by kittyplease69
Summary: Post S3-Just after it seemed that our favorite consulting detective and pathologist were getting closer, Sherlock withdrew from their blooming friendship. After a series of irregular drug overdoses baffles Sherlock, he unconsciously returns to Molly. But what's blossoming this time might be deeper than friendship! SHERLOLLY!


**Come Back to Me~**  
Summary: Post S3-Just after it seemed that our favorite consulting detective and pathologist were getting closer, Sherlock withdrew from their blooming friendship. After a series of irregular drug overdoses baffles Sherlock, he unconsciously returns to Molly. But what's blossoming this time might be deeper than friendship! SHERLOLLY!

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_AN: Hello! So this is my first Sherlolly fanfiction. I have been reading all of your other great works and decided to start my own. If you have any comments or suggestions I'd love to hear them. WARNING: S3 spoilers! (Disclaimer: I own nothing!)_

_Thanks for reading!_

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"Flap"

Molly Hooper woke with a start after hearing a whipping sound from inside her flat. She missed the days when she was a heavy sleeper. She remembered being at Uni and no matter how loud any roommate was she could sleep through it. She never had to worry about getting a good night's sleep before a big exam. She became a light sleeper between Sherlock's "death" and resurrection. When he would constantly breach her flat in the middle of the night and crash after weeks of no sight of him.

She had almost fallen back to sleep when she heard a distinctive squeak, most definitely the sole of a shoe. She heard it again a few seconds later, and then again. She listened to the rhythmic squeaking for some time; being lulled to sleep again until she moved her arm and the sudden rustle of paper startled her into lucidity. She looked down and realized that she had fallen asleep with her work spread around her. Again. She cricked her neck and glanced upon the button up flowered shirt and khakis she'd worn to work the previous day.

Squeak.

Molly checked the time, 3:13. Who could be at her apartment at 3 in the morning? Worried about who could be inside she slowly got off her bed, grabbed her old rugby bat and stalked out of her bedroom and into the hallway.

"Really Molly, with your childish size a rugby bat would hardly be an effective weapon."

She turned toward the baritone voice and felt foolish for not immediately deducing who broke into her flat. The rugby bat fell to her side as the rhythmic squeaking recommenced. Sherlock was briskly pacing back and forth in her lounge. He still had his hat, coat, scarf, and gloves on. There was an animalistic ferocity to his pacing, tense and barely restrained. What made Molly concerned was the state of his hair: completely in disarray, going out in all directions, looking almost straight from being pulled repetitively. All the while, Toby, her cat, was turning his head back and forth mesmerized by the madman in her lounge.

"Um, Sherlock..." Molly whispered cautiously.

"How long does it take for 60mg of Adderall Xr to leave one's system?" He rasped out, ceasing his pacing for just a moment. But during that moment Molly caught a glimpse of the wild, yet familiar look in his eyes.

He had a case.

"Um, quite a long time I believe. The drug wouldn't leave your system for 24 hours, the effects waning off at about the 16th hour, why?" Molly accurately answered, though she hardly thought he was listening. He was brilliant, of course he know how long it would take. He didn't need her. Molly stood in her lounge in wrinkled clothing, exhausted, and was ignored for several minutes as Sherlock make his minuscule trek from on side of her lounge to the other. She huffed and was about to steel her determination to ignore him and go to bed when she noticed that his hands were very slightly shaking. She thought back to his wide dilated eyes, his restlessness, his question and now the hand shaking. It all added up to a very unfortunate conclusion.

"Sherlock, what did you poison your body with this time?" Molly took a defiant stance and glared at him.

Sherlock halted and turned to her with an accusing glare. To both their surprise Molly held her stance and gave her own accusing glare.

"Well Molly, I can't necessarily understand Adderall unless I've taken it, now can I?" Sherlock spat out. To his surprise Molly chuckled.

"Don't take me for daft. Like you've never tried Adderall before."

"I abuse drugs in order to calm my brain. Taking a stimulant would be wholly counter productive. All Adderall does is make my brain work 10 times faster, about a 100 times faster than yours. It was like a bloody monsoon up there!" Sherlock was still crazed, but at least he was focused on her. She was slowly bringing him back to earth. "10 patches weren't enough."

"10 patches of-" Molly lost her train of thought when Sherlock started walking towards her. He shed off his gloves, scarf and gloves and started unbuttoning his shirt. Molly felt flustered and annoyed that she was flustered. _Look at his face, look at his face. _When she finally allowed herself a peak she noticed that his chest was covered in yellow nicotine patches. "Sherlock, what the hell were you thinking?"

Sherlock opened his mouth to go on the defensive, but Molly put a finger on his chest and poked in him backwards until he fell onto the couches. Molly took the seat next to him and started ripping the patches from his chest with fury. Sherlock let out a yelp of pain, "I take it you're mad?"

Molly ripped the next one harder this time. "What gives you that idea, Sherlock?"

"Well, it would seem that you are ripping-" Sherlock was cut off by a rather terrifying glare from his caretaker; he decided to capitulate. "I apologize for your worry, Molly." Molly stopped her warpath when she heard the surprising amount of sentiment in his voice. She looked down at his normally pale chest, which was now angrily red and blotchy. The pathologist took the corner of the next patch and gingerly started to peel it off.

"Oh, Sherlock, just tell me what happened."

"At precisely 15:06 yesterday I ingested 100mg of Adderall Xr- _for a case_" Sherlock added, when he caught Molly's disapproving look. "After about 9 hours of my brain trying to lift off from inside my skull I applied my leftover stash nicotine patches in order to counteract the drug. An hour after midnight I decided I would take a walk to 'clear my head' Can you imagine me? So average, taking a walk to clear my mind." The non-average sociopath chuckled at the thought of his own normalcy.

His companion joined in, but for a different reason. "Sherlock, average people don't take walks at one in the morning in order to wear off 60mg of an unsolicited stimulant."

"Well, anyway, I started walking around aimlessly and I ended up here. Thought I'd might pop in for a cuppa." He had the audacity to have a smirk on his face.

"Wait, you walked all the way here, from Baker Street?"

"Do keep up, Molly."

"But that's an hour walk."

"Yes, and I took the long way." For some reason, Sherlock seemed almost prideful of the fact that he walked over two hours only to awaken his sleeping friend. Molly was slightly touched that Sherlock's unconscious brilliant brain led him to her doorstop. She sucked in a deep breath and thoughtfully finished taking off all of the poisonous nicotine patches. All the while, Sherlock's eyes were feverishly scanning her flat. Molly was curious if Sherlock found anything note-worthy from his perusal, but was too burned out to care.

Molly crumpled up all of the patches into her right hand and stood up. In an authoritative voice she said, "What's going to happen next, is that you are going to steam in the shower for the next hour to sweat out some more of the drugs, _plural,_ you took. Then you can have your cuppa."

Sherlock surprisingly complied rather easily. Fluidly rising from her couch, he walked straight to her WC, but turned around to say one last thing. "I take my tea with milk and two sugars." He always had to have the last word.

Molly knew how Sherlock took his tea, she knew how he took his coffee, and she pathetically knew anything and everything he'd let her know about him.

Even though it was her own flat, Molly couldn't help but still feel uneasy that Sherlock was naked in her shower. Sure he had used her shower many times when he was in hiding, but it had been a year and a half since he had come back. For a long time after he spent every moment instinctively attached to John. It had been cute, seeing him making up convincing (a little too convincing) reasons to consult John all the time. But after Moriarity's own little resurrection and especially after John and Mary had their daughter, Elizabeth, Sherlock had withdrawn into himself. And the only time they were alone was when they were in the lab at St. Bart's together. Molly couldn't fathom why all of the sudden Sherlock had come back to her, she just hoped this time it wouldn't stop.


End file.
